


Red

by sh_wright890



Series: JEM Week 2016 [6]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Domestic, JEM Week, Memories, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 14:46:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9128512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sh_wright890/pseuds/sh_wright890
Summary: Just because memories are separate, it doesn't mean they have nothing in common.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I know. It's late. I was at my mom's with no wifi for awhile to do some shopping with gift cards I got for Christmas. But hey, better late than never, right?

I’ve been alive for over twenty years. I started writing when I was in fifth grade because we had an assignment to write a short story. So I guess I was about ten when that was. Doing the math, that’s at least ten years; I’ve spent over half my life putting pen to paper--literally and metaphorically when I started typing. Meaning I’m much better than when I started.

At least I hoped.

Getting better meant writing all the time, and whenever I wasn’t doing that, I had my nose stuck in a book. Dad hated it. I was a swimmer. I wasn’t a fan of playing ball in the yard with him, and I certainly didn’t like watching a  _ game _ with him. Call me crazy, but I thought screaming at helmeted dudes on TV in the snow was stupid.

The great thing about being older and being surrounded by people you loved was that they actually supported the things you did. Like my writing. For Christmas, Eren had gotten me one of those books with the little prompts on every page. There was, like, 536 of them, and I tried to finish one for every day. 

Prompts could be descriptive or simple, such as the one I’d gotten one day: Red. That was literally it. 

Huffing, I set my pen down. “Wow, so much help,” I muttered to it. 

Arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind and a chin came to rest on my shoulder. I briefly closed my eyes and turned my head to nuzzle the side of Marco’s face. “What’s up, love?” he asked.

“My prompt for today is the word ‘red’.”

“Ah, I see.” He rocked us side to side slowly. “Maybe you have to describe things that are red?”

“Probably, but that’s really obvious and doesn’t take much thinking.”

He nodded. “That’s true, but do you have to think so hard about  _ every _ prompt? Think of it as a sort of free day. Or maybe it’s a chance to work on descriptions in general.”

I sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Always am, dear.” He kissed the side of my head and stood up. “Got any laundry you want me to wash?”

“Hm? Oh, no. I’m okay, babe. Thank you.”

He walked away, trailing his fingers over the width of my shoulders.

“Alright, Jean,” I told myself sternly. “Don’t be such a little bitch about it. Just write about things that are red.”

_ Things that are red: roses, strawberries, ribbons. _ I blushed at the last one remembering the last year when presents weren’t the only things tied up in red ribbons. 

_ Wine is red.  _ I smiled fondly to myself. There was one time when I’d brought home a bottle of wine--it was to celebrate a promotion Eren had gotten, I think. Since none of us had anything to do the next day, we drank and watched shitty romance movies and cuddled until we fell asleep on the couch.

_ Blood is red like a ruby. _ We weren’t together at the time, but Marco Eren had apparently gotten into a car wreck. Eren was lucky since he was asleep in the passenger seat, but Marco had gotten the full force of the hit by a drunk driver when they crossed the median. It was really bad; as in he shouldn’t even be alive right now. Marco hardly remembers when it actually happens, but he  _ does _ remember all the pain, surgery, and physical therapy he had to go through. 

I’d been living with them for about three months. We were on our way home, and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting some deer. It was no big deal--we weren’t going too fast anyway--but both of them looked extremely pale. That night, Marco had a huge nightmare. He was sobbing hysterically, and his knuckles were white from gripping a pillow. Of course, I was totally freaked out, and Eren was too, but he was able to soothe him way better than I could’ve. We finally got Marco settled down, and he took me into the kitchen. I made us some tea, and he told me about the wreck. Marco might not have remembered the incident, but his mind sure as shit did. Apparently, he hadn’t had a nightmare in a long time. When I asked Eren if he’d ever had nightmares, he’d said that he definitely had, but he didn’t like bothering Marco when he’d had it so much worse. 

“There was so much blood…,” Eren told me with a haunted look. 

Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my prompt. 

_ Emotions are red--anger and lust.  _ When we’d all first started really hanging out, both of them individually started making moves on me, and at first, I was so angry. I knew they were together, but I didn’t know they were poly. I thought they were trying to cheat on each other with  _ me _ . However, we’d obviously gotten those things sorted out, and the first time we’d had sex…

Fuck me. It was mind-blowing. Hot and sexy but also gentle and cautious. Red was the main theme, but other colors threaded in too: pinks and oranges and violets. They knew I’d never been with two guys at one time, and they were so cautious--always asking if it was okay before they did it. 

I bit my lip. This prompt was really not good for my health, I swear. 

_ Red was the color of Marco’s cheeks when he blushed and Eren’s lips when we’d been kissing. My favorite blanket is red, and Marco’s toothbrush is red too.  _

I set my pen down--the fucking thing was red too--and rubbed my face. I was so fucking in love--it was ridiculous. Even the simple word  _ red _ reminded me of us, not that I was complaining. 

As if on cue, Marco popped his head around the corner. “Hey, Eren and I were gonna go get some stuff for New Years. Wanna come?”

Standing up, I made my way over to him and took his hand. “Yeah.”

Eren’s voice sounded from the bedroom, “Hey, babe, can we get some red solo cups?”

Marco and I exchanged a look and laughed before I kissed his pretty, red lips. 


End file.
